


Pulled into Focus

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Cold, Comfort, Cuddles, Dick being a dummie, Dick gets lots of hugs, Gen, Hypothermia, No editing we die like mne, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14606457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Dick is sure Bruce will come back up on deck soon and they can go home. He's so sure it'll only take a few minutes that when he falls into Gotham's freezing harbor he doesn't bother to call for backup or a towel, he just waits.





	Pulled into Focus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CamsthiSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamsthiSky/gifts).



“Nightwing, tell Red Robin he is an idiot.” 

“No. Nightwing, tell Robin he’s being a selfish little gargoyle.” 

Dick sighed and considered muting his comms. While the temptation was there, he resisted. Bruce was still below him, working his way through the boat to the cargo at the bottom, his comms dead to the world, intent on making this a mostly solo mission. Dick was in charge until he returned, and with the moods Damian and Tim were in already, Dick had a feeling he was going to need to be on his toes to keep them from killing each other. 

“Both of you hush,” he said. “If you distract me and I miss B’s signal we’re all gonna hear it.” 

Bruce had been inside an hour now, and even Dick was getting antsy. Bruce was the hammer and the Dick was the wingman, ready to spring in and help Bruce if he needed it. He’d already helped clear out the lackies up top, leaving Dick on watch until Bruce returned with the cargo. Dick hated that he’d agreed to stay and watch. Hated that it made the most sense to have someone on top of the boat in case an alarm was called or he needed to go in after Bruce. He hated that they hadn’t brought more people so Dick could go with Bruce. 

Damian and Tim were across town running their own patrol. Why Bruce hadn’t agreed to send Steph with them Dick would never know. Cass could work well enough on her own, especially if they planned in time for the two groups to intersect. Even asking Jason to keep an eye on the younger robins would have done something. No, Dick had decided this was Bruce’s way of reminding Dick leading wasn’t as easy as he thought (as if Dick would forget). A lesson added to an already stressful night. 

His comms buzzed to life again with angry chatter from Tim, Damian had run on ahead of him into something. “Just follow him and make sure he comes back alive,” Dick said. “I refuse to explain to Bruce anything less when he gets out.” 

Dick received a huff on the other end of the line and he readied himself to give Damian similar instructions, including a ‘slow down an wait for your brother’ but any words he’d started to form were turned into a gasp and scrambling to hold onto the slanted rooftop he was perched on, as the entire boat shook, rocked by an unexpected wave. 

The shingles shook, slipped, and started falling in a cascade. They dragged Dick along with them, pulling him down, towards the edge. He turned away from the fall, fingers searching for anything to grab onto as his once safe hiding space turned against him, morphing into a slippery metal under his gloves, the shingles a domino effect sending him over the edge of the boat.

The momentum from the slide sent Dick flying over the edge of the boat, his hands just missing the side as he reached for it. He hit Gotham’s freezing waters in a cannonball, curling in on himself the moment his fingers slipped past the silver edge. He uncurled in the current, pushing himself to the surface. 

His head broke the water long enough for him to gasp, and his comm to crackle with worried voices before a wave crashed, pulling him back under. The rush of water drowned out Damian’s voice in his ear, asking something about all the noise? Dick wasn’t sure, he didn’t really care, it wasn’t like he could answer underwater. 

He pushed himself back up, fighting the current from the boat’s engine, turning him and dragging him around and around until he wasn’t sure which way was up. His lungs burned, the air he’d sucked in trapped, pushing against his ribs in an attempt to escape. The lenses in his mask at last helped him orient himself so he could surface again. 

When he did, the boat was already outpacing him, chugging along at a steady pace. Dick pushed forward, his mind calculating the speed versus his, and the waves created by the boat’s engine. He didn’t want to get caught up in one again, and there was no way he was going to manage to catch up swimming on his own. 

His hand fumbled at his hip for his grappling hook and he pulled it up out of the water. In his ear Tim had started demanding he answer, breaking off to yell at Damian about something before abusing Dick’s ear again. He tuned them out pointing the hook in the direction of the boat and letting it fire. 

He hadn’t really aimed, so when it hit the hull, the claws sinking in, he was surprised and delighted. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in the middle of Gotham harbor when he was supposed to be watching Bruce’s back. He could only imagine breaking off the worried voices in his ear to ask them to come pick him up, and oh will someone make sure Bruce hasn’t been killed by pirates too please? 

The line went taught and almost pulled itself out of his hand. He gripped it with both and let it drag him through the freezing water for a moment before hitting the button that would drag the cord back in on itself, and pull Dick towards the boat. 

He smacked the side with enough force to knock the air out of him, but thankfully he kept his hold on the grapple. After a second to will his chest to take in air again, he hauled himself back over the side of the ship and fell, like one of the fish Bruce liked to catch, onto the deck, wet and exhausted from the fight.

“Dick answer me right now or so help me both Damian and I are coming after you, Bruce’s orders or not.” Tim’s voice demanded him back into action. 

“Names.” Dick coughed, “No names in the field, Red Robin.” 

“If you do not want us using names  _ Nightwing  _ then answer the next time we both ask. It sounded like you fell into the harbor. In the event that you did I suggest--”

Dick cut Damian off with a semi-hoarse lie, “I’m fine. There was a scuffle, but I’m fine. No need to come after me.” 

“You are truly fine?” Damian asked, his voice softer than the last rebuke, and as worried as he would let himself sound with Tim close by.

“I’m okay, really.” then, like he needed to convince even himself, “We’ll have cocoa tonight after patrol and I’ll tell you all about it.”  

There was silence from the other end of the comms line before Dick heard Tim sigh, “Tell us the moment you need anything.” then the buzz of a connection cut out leaving Dick laying on the freezing metal deck of a ship and wishing he had told his brothers the truth. 

Dick let himself lay there for another few seconds before the thought that at any moment Bruce might need him forced his shivering muscles up from the deck and pulled him back to his feet. He resumed his watch on the roof of the ship, eyes and ears open for anything Bruce might need. 

It didn’t take long for the wind created by the ship’s movement to seep through his wet suit and begin the process of freezing every inch of Dick’s soaked skin. He dug for one of the small hand warmers he kept with him for the coldest of Gotham’s nights and tore open the package in a rush, almost sending the palm sized warmer flying. 

He cupped it between his hands and worked the gel inside until it started to warm up, savoring the heat for the few minutes it gave it off. His lie didn’t seem as bad in that moment. Bruce would be out soon. He couldn’t be down there much longer, and then they’d go home and Dick would change and be warm enough for the promised cocoa between his brothers. 

A few minutes slipped into half an hour and then a full hour had passed. Whatever Bruce was doing below deck couldn’t take much longer. It couldn’t because what could Bruce be doing down there? And because when Dick moved he heard thin ice on his suit crack and flake off. 

He shivered and crackled and kept trying new positions to wrap his arms around his body to keep him warm. At one point he left the roof and found a tarp to wrap around himself, but even that didn’t stop the violent shudders taking his body as he waited for Bruce. 

His mind was getting foggy and aching like he’d taken a bad hit while sparring. He knew Bruce couldn’t be much longer. All he had to do was wait. He could do that. Wait for Bruce to get back then they could go home. Only he was starting to get foggy with the details of why. Why he was waiting, why he was standing up on this roof and freezing. The constant was Bruce. He was here for Bruce. Bruce needed him to stay right here until he got back. 

Dick held onto that thought even when his grip on the tarp grew weak and it slipped from his fingers. He repeated the thought while not being able to find it in himself to pick it back up. It was too much, too much energy and bother to pick it up. It hadn’t helped much anyway. 

“Nightwing what’s the mission status?” Tim’s voice crackled in his ear. 

“Slow.” he tried to say, but it came out more slurred the o elongating into where the w should be. 

He remembered answering a few more questions, but over what he couldn’t be sure. He had been trying too hard to keep the shivering out of his voice and set off Tim’s spidey-sense of brotherly worry. Damian’s too if he’d been listening in. 

After he managed to get Tim to sign off there was a long period of silence. He was jerked into motion by a crash of metal against metal. He wasn’t sure when his eyes had started to droop but the noise sent them blinking open. Below him Batman crashed out, suit torn, blood dripping down one leg. He looked up at Dick. 

“We’re all clear. All the weapons from the shipment are on board.” he said, “If you want to come down we can start unloading the cargo.” 

That must have been what had taken Bruce so long, he’d been questioning the men, making sure all the weapons were accounted for, and if not trying to find out where they needed to look next. 

Dick nodded, his mind might be running slow but the mission had moved back to the forefront, overriding the neverending cold. “Got it boss.” he grinned, and crouched to climb down. Bruce held out a hand and half caught him as he hopped off the roof, a small frown on his face. 

He didn’t say anything, so Dick let him lead him into the ship’s innards and they started hauling boxes out. Dick managed the first one almost without error. His grip slipped for a moment before he caught the box again, hoisting it under and arm this time. The second didn’t go so well, it was heavier and carried between the two of them for safety.

They reached the deck and Dick’s vision swam, he took in deep breaths trying to focus again, but his grip was weakening and his muscles felt like he’d been working them nonstop for hours. He stumbled, the weight too much and suddenly he was back at the edge, his stomach on the rail, then his legs in the air, and the water greeting him again. Bruce’s voice was high and afraid behind him, too soon lost in the rush of water flooding Dick’s ears. The cold embraced him again as if to say, ‘Welcome back, I knew you wouldn’t be gone long’.

Dick didn’t have long to adjust to the water when a hand grabbed his arm, then yanked him forward, pulling his head out of the water almost as soon as it had submerged. He tried to grip at the wrist by his but he couldn’t focus, his fingers fumbling and cold and limp. 

A grunt came from above him and Dick was pulled against a hard chest. He wanted to help, but couldn’t find it in himself to do more than hang limp and cold and just wanting home and sleep. His back found the deck again, this time with the black hulking form of Batman above him. He had the sudden thought that this was what some criminals must feel, beaten and half drowned with a looming shadow over them. 

Except Dick wasn’t terrified. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts (okay, he might be ready to throw up, but that was for a different reason). Despite the cold and the ache and the desperate need to sleep all Dick felt was safe. His brain told him something was wrong, but it also said it would be okay. He’d be fine because his dad was here. 

“Dick?” Bruce’s voice was rough with worry, “Look at me, tell me what’s wrong. What happened?” 

Dick smiled up at him, “Fell in. But you caught me.” his whole body felt like it was a single shiver, “Mmm cold. Can we go home?” 

A gloved palm pressed against his cheek, “Yeah, Chum. We’re going to go home. I need you to stay with me, alright?” 

Dick nodded, but he was tired. Bruce was here, meaning he was going to be fine. He let his dad lift him up. When he was standing Bruce pulled his cape off and wrapped it around Dick, pressing the corners into his hands. He tugged him close and they were moving towards the Batwing as it hovered beside the ship. 

Distantly he heard Bruce talking with someone about coming to finish unloading the ship, then a sharp command and promise that Dick would be fine. He wondered why that wasn’t directed at himself, but then remembered the comms. 

“Tim?” he asked. 

“And Damian. They said you had a scuffle earlier?” Bruce’s voice was almost in his ear, a familiar comforting warmth. 

“Fell off the boat. Didn’t want to tell them. They worry.” Dick mumbled. 

He felt Bruce stiffen beside him, but they didn't stop moving. Something in his head told him he probably should have kept that information to himself, but he didn’t really care. Dick let himself be settled into the passenger’s seat, the cape being readjusted around him for optimum warmth. A few seconds later Bruce was climbing in next to him and the hum of the jet moving made Dick’s already heavy eyes droop. Bruce said something but Dick couldn’t comprehend it, he didn’t comprehend anything for a long while.

* * *

 

He woke up heavy. With something heavy on him. Something towering and so stacked he couldn’t quite see over it. He was in his own bed at least, the comforting plush mattress preferred to any medical cot down in the cave. Instead of wasting energy on lifting his head to examine things further, he let it flop to the side. There he found another large form, but a familiar, comforting one.

Bruce caught his eye the moment he looked over, like he’d been waiting for this moment since he pulled Dick back out of the harbor. The harbor, that was why he’d been buried under every blanket in the manor. Guilt bubbled up inside him. 

A hand tucked a lock of hair behind his ears, Bruce’s fingers gentle, “How do you feel?” 

“Cold. Embarrassed.” Everything felt achy and he didn’t think he wanted to move for a year. Oh, and his head hurt. 

Bruce’s frown deepened, thumb still warm against Dick’s temple. He wondered how many times he’d have to apologize and how wide he’d have to make his eyes to convince Bruce to crawl in his bed beside him. All he wanted was the warmth of someone else close by. Particularly his dad. 

“How bad was it?” he asked. 

“Hypothermia, mild shock from the water impact, and Alfred thinks you may develop a cold.” Bruce’s hand ran through the hair on the side of his head before finding the bangs that kept slipping into his eyes, brushing them back.

At the word cold Dick could feel a twinge in his chest promising that very thing the moment the weight pressing against it let up enough for him to breathe deeply, just one more thing to add to the list. 

“I’m sorry.” he said. 

“You should have called Tim and Damian.” The reproach was gentler than Dick imagined it would be, and much more so than he’d deserved. 

He managed to get an arm free from the ton of blankets and found Bruce’s wrist, in lieu of his fingers. It was warm and doubled his want to convince Bruce to snuggle next to him. “You were counting on me and the boys to do our jobs. Besides things could have gone wrong on the boat and we’d both rather it be us than them there.” 

“One of them could have at least brought you a change of suit.” 

“Then he wouldn’t have left.” 

“Dick.” 

“Bruce.” 

They stared at each other for a moment before Dick continued, “I had to. We both know that. Now could you do me a favor and snuggle up beside me? I feel like I’m going to shake out of my bones if I don’t have someone close by.” 

He tugged on Bruce’s wrist and gave him his very best big eyed look. The one he’d perfected years ago when he’d rather stay in bed than go to school. He was pretty sure he didn’t even need to use it though, the tug seemed to have been enough. 

His dad mumbled something about finishing their talk later and started peeling back the layers of blankets, before climbing in. Dick wasted no time latching onto Bruce. He snuggled close and wrapped around him like he’d done as a child, arms snaking around the chest still as large as he remembered it. He tucked his head under Bruce’s and sighed. 

“Just as warm as I was hoping.” 

There was a brief moment of shuffling as Bruce tucked them in, and then he returned the embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. Dick pressed a bit closer and savored the heat sinking its way back into him. The blankets had been warming, but this was a hundred times better.  

“Thanks, B.” Dick sighed. 

“Hmm.” Bruce said, then after a minute, “Dick?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do not ever fall off a boat and refuse to call someone again.” 

Dick smiled into Bruce’s chest, “Mmkay.” he promised, “Don’t have a mission on a boat again.” 

Bruce let go of him long enough to flick him in the ear, “Brat.” he said, his voice warm. 

Dick laughed, chuckling until that turned into coughing that forced him to stop. He made Bruce tell him how the rest of the unloading went- finished by Damian and Tim who’d already been on their way to the boat- then learned what everyone else had been doing through the night. Finally he made him list his whole schedule for the week and started planning how he could make Bruce cancel a few things just to sleep.

Alfred came in with medicine for Dick’s growing headache and a stern reiteration of Bruce’s desire for him to stop falling off boats. Neither he nor Bruce missed the smile Alfred couldn’t quite hide at finding them both cuddled up together. 

Dick was happy enough to leave things as they were. He was warming up, and Bruce was forced to rest himself. Something Dick knew he always needed more of. Neither of them were sleepy, so he got his phone from the nightstand and he and Bruce played Angry Birds together for a while. 

“Father, Drake and I have come to--Richard.” Damian’s voice made both of them look up from the round they’d tried four times. 

Damian and Tim stood in the doorway. Dick raised a hand and waved. Damian’s face turned stormy. 

“You lied.” he said.

His mouth snapped closed the moment the words left it and he turned his gaze to Bruce. If Dick had the energy he’d have gotten up to pull Damian close, but as it was he was forced to attempt to use words to soothe his family. 

“I’m sorry.” Dick told them both.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Tim told him, “You are okay, right?” 

Dick nodded, “A little soup, a little sleep, and I’ll be right as rain.” 

At this, Tim smiled. Dick watched for anything from Damian, but his youngest brother was still frowning in Bruce’s direction. He had an idea then, a kind of penance. 

“I know I missed our promised cocoa right after patrol, so how about we have it now? Would you guys mind running down to the kitchen and bringing up four cups?” he asked. 

Tim brightened further at this and Damian crossed his arms. Tim elbowed him lightly, “We’d be happy to. Right, Damian?” 

“Tt.” 

“Damian.” Bruce started, but Dick did his own elbowing. 

“It’d be just what I need to keep warming up.” he said, prompting Damian to turn on a heel and head out, a quick bark at Tim to follow his only parting remark. 

It was cheating, playing on Damian’s need to make sure Dick got better, but Dick would do it again if the task of making cocoa didn’t thaw his little brother at all. He hated having Damian upset with him, and only wanted to soothe his worries. He had lied, for them both, but right now he figured Damian was more upset that Dick had been in danger because of it. 

He’d have to give a better explanation to Tim later too, even if his brother brushed it off. He’d scared them, and should have done something other than let himself freeze on top of a boat like an idiot. But he had his reasons, and he’d stick to them. Being there for Bruce was always more important. Keeping them out of danger was also always over his own health. It came with its drawbacks, apologies and dealing with upset, but it was better than seeing Tim or Damian in bed buried under blankets. Better than Bruce not having any backup at all. 

Neither he nor Bruce suggested restarting their game of Angry Birds, instead Bruce dragged a television into the room, having an idea already of what Dick was planning to do when Tim and Damian returned. 

For the few minutes Dick was alone he was miserable. Achy and still not completely warm, all he wanted was his family around. Even with the situation all his own fault, he didn’t stop lamenting not having someone close by. Guilt at scaring them all, and Alfred dug at him again. The only completely correct course of action was to fix it, and show them all how much he cared, while soothing their fears. He hoped that his plan of getting everyone snuggled with him would do just that. 

Bruce’s return helped soothe some of his shivering, and soon after Damian and Tim came up. They carried two steaming mugs each. Damian made to hand Dick his and hurry away from the bed, but Dick caught his hood, black with blue on the inside, and tugged him back. 

“Stay.” he said, “I’d feel a lot better with you both up here with Bruce and I. B even got things set up for a movie.” 

Damian turned on him, not fast enough to spill his own cocoa, but it sloshed dangerously on the move. “I will agree.” he said, “But it does not mean I have forgiven your lie and subsequent illness.” 

Dick gave him his best smile, “I think I can live with that.” 

Bruce shifted to let Tim squeeze between he and Dick. Dick found himself pressing closer to Tim to make room for Damian, but soon they were all settled together on the bed. Dick was pleased, even if Damian was trying his best to distance himself. 

They put on a movie and settled in. Only after Bruce had nodded off, and Tim squeezed out for a cocoa refill did Dick nudge Damian. The boy had spent the movie staring at the screen with a posture that yelled upset. 

“I’m sorry for lying to you.” Dick said, quietly. 

Damian didn’t turn to him, “You are not.” 

“I’m not sorry for staying out to make sure Bruce was okay, and I’m not sorry that I didn’t let you or Tim come, but I am sorry I lied to you.” Dick told him. 

They didn’t lie to each other. Or they rarely did, and only when it was important. Too many times Damian’s ‘I’m fine’ and Dick’s ‘I’m alright to patrol’ lies almost got them killed while Batman and Robin together.

“I’m also sorry I got sick. I really thought Bruce was going to be out any minute.” He poked Damian’s arm, “I mean it.” 

“You were a fool.” Damian huffed, some of the ridgedness going out of his shoulders. He turned his head towards Dick, “You could have died.” 

“It was that or be worried the same might happen to you and Tim.” Dick said, finding Damian’s hand to take in his own. 

“Tt. That is no excuse.” 

“Is too.” Dick told him, a smile turning up his lips, “You know me too well to think it anything but my best excuse.” 

Damian pulled his hand away with so much force the bed shook. He glanced at Bruce, who hadn’t seem to have been woken by the jerking motion before turning back to Dick, “Which is precisely why I am angry with you. You did not think of yourself, and in doing so did not think of any of us.” 

Dick blinked at him. 

“You tell me that if something were to happen to me you would be hurt by that, yet you do not extend the same courtesy to your own situation.” Damian crossed his arms again, blinking furiously against wet eyes, “The worst thing that you could have done you did.” 

“Dames.” Dick said, and held his arms open, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t think about how any of you would feel if I got hurt.” 

Damian leaned forward and let Dick hug him, somewhat awkwardly since he still had his arms against his chest. Dick squeezed him tightly, “I’ll do better next time. Find a middle ground.” 

“You had better.” Damian mumbled, finally untangling his arms to return the hug, “Or I will not forgive you so easily.” 

By the time Tim returned Dick had tucked Damian close into his side, and was able to finish the movie with them both close, and Bruce lightly snoring close by. 


End file.
